


the boy who destroyed the world

by josiebelladonna, nirvhannahcornell (josiebelladonna)



Series: at land's end [4]
Category: Anthrax (US Band), Megadeth, Metallica
Genre: Alternate Universe - Horror, Ballads, Euthanasia, Gen, Halloween, Horror, Murder, Ocean Punk, POV First Person, Red Herrings, Southern Gothic Undertones, murder ballads
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:20:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26938798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/josiebelladonna/pseuds/josiebelladonna, https://archiveofourown.org/users/josiebelladonna/pseuds/nirvhannahcornell
Summary: whilst on the inaugural megacruise 2019, frank experiences a revisit to a tragic personal event, much to the surprise and interest of lars. that is until there will be hell to pay.
Series: at land's end [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1842376
Comments: 1
Kudos: 1





	the boy who destroyed the world

**Author's Note:**

> named for the AFI song - this was done on kind of a whim and albeit one i didn't realize would prove to be quite the feat on a personal front.  
> the mentioned poem here is by me 💜
> 
> _yeah, my baby left me this morning,  
>  and i don't care now, i don't care what the people say.  
> yeah, i did everything that i could, everything i could,  
> lord knows I did everything I could.  
> i tried to satisfy her worried mind, that's what i did..."_  
> -"i'm gonna kill that woman", nick cave and the bad seeds (originally by john lee hooker)

There was a lot on Frank's mind, I could tell. The way in which he paced about the backstage area, although I was sure that the dramamine waivered a bit with the sway of the ocean. I recall watching him at one point, the grave look upon his face even from behind those thick black framed glasses and low muttering to himself as he plucked his guitar, and I wondered if there was something more there.

Jess and I had been invited onto the Megacruise: I told the boys that it would be a series of date nights between the two of us, and thus it was just us in the spacious but cozy room on the starboard of that giant boat. She had fallen asleep after about an hour given the dramamine had worn off quickly at an almost comic rate: she told me to go on and watch the shows by myself. I liked to do things with her and thus it almost felt as though I was without a piece next to me. But I needed to let her rest for the evening: I put on my ball cap and my coat and dressed warmly given the ocean there in southern California was cold.

We had departed from Los Angeles on Saturday night: it was the night before Joey's fifty ninth birthday and thus everyone would have a little something for him on his day. I found it rather baffling that he managed to look the same age as a thirty year old man with that rich wiry jet black hair floating behind his head. I foresaw myself losing all of my hair when I was thirty, but he never lost any thread of darkness to him and he never lost any part of himself even with the passage and persistence of time. Frank and Charlie had the same deal with them, but Joey never waivered one time with time itself. When I saw him on that first night before Anthrax's set, he called me “little lion man”, which I thought was funny and random.

I found myself at the front of their set so as to watch him: those slender, spindly legs and his shapely hips all cloaked in black, and his slim little body draped in a black button up which billowed back from the sea breeze. His hair fanned back from his head like the arms of an octopus: even all of us being on a giant boat and the sound spanning all over the place, his voice had this rich dry quality to it. A thought crossed my mind, albeit one that hadn't crossed my mind in years since Kirk and I had our moments together back around the _Load_ era: I wanted to drink him down. Don't talk to me about being European and bi. Just don't: but watching Joey made me find the beauty in the masculine form once again, especially the more delicate and lovely of form.

But then there was Frank: he had this grave look upon his face every time I flashed a glance over at him. Usually he tossed his hair back and cheered everyone on whilst Joey was singing, but he seemed out of it. I wondered if it was for the same reason with Jess, in that the dramamine wore off with time. But then again the skin on his face still had its color, still had that rosy pinkish bloom of blush with those lush Italian genes.

When his band with Junior, Altitudes and Attitudes, took to the stage at around midnight, I was able to stand right down before him with Joey and Krista and watch his every move. I wondered where Dave had run off to given this whole cruise was his baby, and he should know that one of his main acts wasn't feeling well.

Frank pushed the glasses up the bridge of his nose and bowed his head so the tendrils of black hair hugged the sides of his face. He held onto the heavy wooden guitar by the base of the neck so it would stay atop his lap. A little too solemn and so unlike him.

“Hey, everyone,” he greeted us all in a low voice. “I'm Frankie Bello, and this is my band Altitudes and Attitudes—and—this is a song I wrote recently. And by recently, I mean a couple of days ago. I haven't shared this with anyone other than David and our band mates here. It's called 'The Story of Janey Lee'.”

I could only wonder what crossed his mind as he strummed that guitar as if he was Bob Dylan. The light fixated upon him, and so much that Junior lingered back in the darkness like a ghost with an acoustic bass guitar cradled in his lap. I adjusted the inside of my pockets as I kept my eye on him. He brought his mouth to the microphone.

“ _She strolled into the room, with hair as red as the hottest flame in the sand_ ,” he sang in a voice so clean and clear, “ _and skin as warm as the rising sun. She glowed in the bloom of my eye and proved to knock me off side like a chute of amethyst on the rockin' floor. She took me by the hand, and she took me for a ride_.”

It was in fact like watching Bob Dylan, or Tom Waits. A folk singer of yesteryears. He gave his hair a toss back with a flick of his head but then he returned to the head of the microphone.

“ _I did well for a young stallion... without a hitch, and she walked me to the side, and she picked up a looped silver medallion. She whispered the sugar into my ear and vowed to knock on my door. She took me by the hand, and she took me for a ride_.”

I nibbled on my bottom lip. I could only wonder what was going on there. Odd rhymes and something I would have to share with Jess when she recovered.

“ _The blade was sharp and icy cold, and the threads spindled apart into nothing, but the room had all the trimmings of what once was told. Without her clothes and without a ream of fear, she showed me the world to implore. She took me by the hand, and she took me for a ride_.”

I looked over at Joey and Krista and the thoughtful expression on both of their faces.

“ _The bullet killed her to save the flesh and bone on the sand, to which I had nothing. She vowed to live and all that I crave, but she had vanished into the heart of the night, and bereft of me of the world to implore. She took me by the hand, and she took me for a ride_.”

“Wow,” I muttered out loud. I needed to ask him about that song because it seemed to bother him. In fact, once he was done, he lifted his head and showed a smile. A catharsis of sorts.

Altitudes and Attitudes were easily one of the best acts of that first night: them and Anthrax both. I knew Megadeth were going on the next night and I was eager to take Jess to see them. But to get down to brass tacks: I rounded the side of the stage to catch up with Frank. He stood off to the side, out of earshot of the next act and Junior himself, who was crouched down before a series of bass guitars, some of which were going onto the stage the next night: I pictured that heavy wooden one going nuts on “Hanger 18”. Frank still had his glasses on his face so there was a glimmer in the lenses like they protected the true color inside of there; he showed me a warm smile as I approached him.

“Hey, Lars,” he greeted me in a soft voice. He took a drink of water to soothe his throat. “What's goin' on?”

“I wanted to remark about that song you debuted tonight,” I told him. “I wanted to congratulate you.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

“It really touched me...”

“Hey, there's Joey.”

I turned around to find the beautiful man himself walking towards us.

“Damn, Frankie, that song was cool,” he joined in with me in that upstate accent.

“The Janey Lee song?”

“Yeah.”

“Lars was just commentin' on it, too. Um—” He peered over his shoulder and then he gestured for us to move in closer.

“I want to tell you guys something.” He lowered his voice to a soft tone, and he turned to us with that solemn look upon his face again. “I haven't told anyone this—I just threw out the lyrics to David and the band, like I didn't go into detail behind it. Well, I actually did, but it was totally made up.”

“What's happening?” I asked him in a low voice.

Frank fetched up a sigh and closed his eyes.

“Frankie,” Joey began in a near whisper.

“It's a true story.”

“Really?” I asked him.

“Completely true. It was a girl I actually knew about twenty years ago, before I met my wife and after—you know.” I remembered his brother had been gunned down over twenty years ago as well. “She was one of those 'sweet to sour' type stories.”

I recalled the lyrics of the song. Something about the blade to his head or some sort.

“She—She was a cop and she was part of the investigation on Anthony's murder. She told me it was to ensure I was alright in the wake of his death. But she pretty much stalked me, like she followed me around right before the time I joined Helmet. In fact, when I left Anthrax for Helmet, I gave her a chance and the next thing I knew I had a knife to my throat. Tied up to a chair and with a knife right to my throat and looking right into a thirst for my blood in her eye.”

“What'd you do?” asked Joey in a near whisper; he moved in closer to us with an alarmed look on his face. He folded his arms across his chest; even I started feeling a chill myself.

Frank's face fell.

“At some point, I found my way out of the ropes and I found her gun. And—”

“You shot her,” I breathed, to which he nodded his head and swallowed back the tears and the pain. All I knew was that to this day even so much as talking about his brother remained a touchy subject for him. Even as jovial as Frank was, even in the wake of that, waking up every day and carpe-ing every single one of those diems, that always remained a deep wound for him.

“But here me out, though. She pretty much turned into a monster that night. Those lines were true. She showed herself to me and said something like she was a hundred years old and if she slept with me, she'd take my body once she had me killed. I had to shoot her.”

“Was she a vampire?” asked Joey.

“Nah, she didn't have the fangs. She looked like a regular ol' person, so it was totally a shock to me. But she showed me a patch of skin on her ass that was of a different color to the rest of her skin. It was like she was a patchwork person. A hundred years old and made of different bits of skin. And—” He shrugged and turned towards me.

“She was—gonna take my skin,” he confessed to me in a low voice.

“Holy—”

“Yeah.”

“Holy shit,” Joey answered for me. Frank bowed his head as if he was ashamed.

“Frank,” I started with my hand on his shoulder, “—Frankie. Listen to me: you did the right thing. You literally did the right thing.”

“Yeah, I'm sure it hurts still,” Joey assured him.

“Except now I'm going to kill the both of you as well as him,” a voice behind us growled. The three of us turned to see that woman in question. Even thought her red hair resembled to a plume of fire atop the crown of her head, her face was gaunt and her sallow skin seemed to hang off of her bones: her cop uniform had lost a great deal of threads and her body looked to be on its last legs. She looked like she needed to eat something. Something like our flesh.

“I'm in need of some new skin, boys,” her voice was raspy and dry, parched with death herself. “New skin against me. New skin inside of my lips. Come here.”

“Bounce!” Joey yelped to us, and the three of us ducked into the backstage area and into the nearest hallway. The three of us were each athletes: Joey the hockey player, Frank the baseball player, and I the tennis player. The three of us could run and in an especially tight space such as that. And yet, she followed us like one of the riptides down in the dark ocean beneath us.

Frank was the first to reach the outside railing: the inky black sky and the pale marine layer greeted us with a deep chill, like that of death. Even with my coat on over my body, I still felt that deep chill. Apparently Joey and Frank did, too: the former hunched his shoulders as he peered about the walkway, while the latter rubbed his hands together.

“Which way?” I asked them.

But she had caught up with us from the left of me. Death had made her super human: I made out the sight of the bullet hole in the midst of her forehead, about the size of a dime. It had sunken back into her skin, but I knew what it was the second I saw it.

“Come here you,” she breathed at me. “Let me love you.”

“Fucking hell no!” I shouted and my voice echoed out over the ocean next to us. I doubled back and Joey followed close behind me. But she was quick to catch Frank; I glanced back at her having tackled him down on the walkway, right underneath a metal bar holding up a piece of the awning. The skin on her fingers withered and waned away into threadbare tendrils: the sole things keeping the bones together. I looked about the place for something, anything, to get her. She brought those ancient lips to the side of his face.

“You're mine now—” she whispered. “—pay the price for doing that to me. You. Are. MINE.”

Those lips closer and closer and there was nothing Joey and I could do about it. The kiss of death.

BLAM!

Joey and I gasped. Janey Lee lifted her head just as Junior took another swipe at her emaciated head with the heavy wooden body of his bass. She hit her head against the railing. Frank stood to his feet to get away from her, but he gripped onto the bar. He raised both feet and kangaroo kicked her. She fell ass over teakettle over the railing and into the pitch dark waters down below. There was no way she would come back from the cold Pacific Ocean.

The four of us stood there in stunned silence. We couldn't believe it: Frank had to kill her to save himself and yet she needed to be gotten rid of for good. Something kept her going. And it took three strong blows straight to the head to do the trick.

We looked at one another as Junior lifted up his bass to check the body. Not a scratch.

“This didn't happen,” Frank told us.

“Nope,” said Joey.

“I will take this secret to the grave if I must,” I vowed.

“I will, too,” said Junior in that big booming voice of his.

“See you guys tomorrow?” Frank suggested.

“Of course!” I quipped.

“Happy birthday, Joey,” said Junior with a nervous smile on his face.

“Thank you,” Joey replied with a soft little chuckle.

I was quick to double back into the hallway to scout out my room again. I recognized the starboard side of the ship and it was in those moments I recognized the room numbers the fatigue sank over me like one of the ocean waves down below. Those dark waves having swallowed her whole and left me feeling wiped.

I took the key out of coat pocket, and unlocked the door, and stumbled into the room. Jess was still sound asleep inside of the big queen sized bed, right under those warm cozy covers. I shut the door and peeled off my coat: I couldn't hardly get that scene out of my head as I took off my shoes and my jeans. She groaned in her sleep as I slid into bed next to her. I didn't want to think about that.

It was just a song if she asked and she could watch it after the fact. I hoped she would feel better in the morning so we could watch Megadeth. I hoped Junior would not even mention it should Dave ever ask him about it. However, because of that incident, I could foresee that song, “The Story of Janey Lee”, making its way into the radio world. I could just envision: it had the power and the passion and of course, the story telling. I could see Altitudes and Attitudes making way whenever Anthrax wasn't doing anything, much like Joey's side gigs making way as well.

Jess groaned again as I snuggled down next to her.

“Hey,” I whispered to her: I was still trying to catch my breath.

“Hey—what's going on?”

“Oh, nothing. It's after midnight so—get some sleep.”

“I thought I heard you and someone out there yelling.”

“Oh, no, no, no,” I assured her. “You were probably just dreaming. It's late, darling—get some sleep.”

I lay my head down on the pillow and closed my eyes. I could still see that image on the backs of my eyelids.

And yet I knew it had to be done, just like the story of Janey Lee.


End file.
